A Fresh Start

Alan looked at her for a moment, then took a blank card out of his pocket and scribbled down a number.

“I’m sure you have Rachel’s number. This is mine. But I spend very little time on the phone, so I would appreciate it if you would call me sparingly. Even my mother gets asked that, though she, of course, doesn’t listen.”

Grace wondered if he could really see the hearts in her eyes.

“I will only use it if I can’t make it – in which case, I might be dead and it might be difficult to get to a phone – or if you stand me up.”

“Oh, you need have no worries about that, lovely Grace. I won’t stand you up.”

He started walking away, but he stopped and turned back.

“It’s not often that people are named so aptly, Grace. But your name is perfect for you.”

Now he did walk away.

Grace kept herself steady, watching him. When he was out of sight, she sagged against the wall, a hand pressed against her thundering heart.

Had that happened? Had that really, truly, happened? She had gotten herself a date – it was a date, wasn’t it? She had gotten herself an actual date, with Alan Barden.

She didn’t care if everything in her life fell apart now. She had a date with Alan Barden to look forward to.

Alan. He had asked her to call him Alan.

Grace walked back into the rest room and stood there, looking at herself. She was glowing. Or was she imagining that?

“Wow,” she whispered, because no other words seemed to be enough, for once.

“Wow,” she tried again.

“A date, with Alan Barden. You, Grace Hickory, are going on a date with Alan Barden. You are going to meet Alan Barden for drinks. Alan Barden gave you his number.”

It still didn’t sink in.

“Alan Barden and you are going to go out on a date,” she told herself again.

It felt as if she might repeat the name forever, but it still wouldn’t feel true.

She would never have believed that it could’ve happened. Fantasies had been one thing, but this was a whole new ball game.

They had connected, hadn’t they? There had been something there, something special. He must’ve felt it, too, or he wouldn’t have asked her out.

But it still felt like a fantasy she’d weaved in her imagination.

Grace looked at the card she still gripped in her hand like it was a lifeline.

No, it had definitely happened.

She was going to go out on a date with Alan Barden!

With a wide grin, Grace punched the air and finally let it out.

“Yeaaah!” she crowed.

Now it felt a little bit real.

To Grace, the next few days seemed to pass by in a blur. She was on top of the world.

Of course, she kept checking her phone, hoping to have gotten a text from Alan. She loved thinking the name to herself, knowing that she was on first-name basis with him – Alan.

She looked at the front page of her first edition and stroked it lovingly, the words taking on new meaning to her. He had said the most wonderful things to her, exactly when she’d been so down that she’d needed to hear them. Even better, he had said them sincerely. She could see that, too.

Life was wonderful.

Everything Katie said had rolled off her like water off a duck’s back. Rachel had emailed Katie, expressing the deepest gratitude for making sure that the competent and wonderful Grace had been assigned to the event, instead of Thom, who had been a grave disappointment. She had said all kinds of complimentary things, and had copied Grace on the email.

Any reprimand lost all steam after that email. What could her superiors possibly say when she had made their biggest author and biggest brand quite so happy?

There were other kinds of payback, of course. Grace found herself getting worse and crappier manuscripts by the day. But she whizzed through them, powered by the memory of how it had felt to be close to Alan.

The only fly in her ointment was that Alan seemed to have no inclination of using her email id or her phone number. She hadn’t expected him to call, of course. He had seemed to be the kind who would be averse to phone calls, even personal ones.

But she had let herself hope for an email or two. After all, he was a writer. Emails were like writing.

She’d had to stop herself from texting him many times. But she had managed it.

Grace even went shopping to get the perfect outfit. She’d felt guilty about not asking Violet to come along. Violet had a wonderful eye for clothes, and always knew what suited Grace, even better than Grace did herself.

But she thought she’d done a good job. She’d found a bronze-toned blouse and a deep green skirt that was an odd combination, but worked on her. It wasn’t too much, but it made her look striking. They hugged her curves and showed them off. Grace didn’t very often dress to show off, but when she made the effort, she looked stunning.

Everything was going well.

Grace woke up on the big day with an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach, as if something wasn’t quite right.

She told herself to stop being silly – it was just excitement and nerves. She was going to be seeing Alan – she was going on a date with Alan Barden!

It was all going to go well, she told herself firmly.